


ohana means family

by thewitheredrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Steve Rogers, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewitheredrose/pseuds/thewitheredrose
Summary: "I'm sorry, who are you? What the hell is going on?""Oh, right. Umm..." The woman looked awkwardly down at her shoes, rubbing the back of her head. She looked as though she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Bucky would join her, if he could. "Well, I'm Olivia Fletcher, and... well, there's no normal way to say this- I'm your great niece."!!NOT ABANDONED, I'M TAKING A BREAK!!A post-Civil War AU where Bucky finds out about his relatives, makes a lot of mistakes and discovers a secret someone close to him has been keeping. This is my first fic, so I hope that you enjoy it!~ Rose xo
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Original Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 25





	1. The Bookstore

It was a cold December morning when Bucky decided to go to the bookstore. Christmas was in a few weeks and he still hadn’t bought Steve a present, and he’d seen this incredible art book that he knew Steve would love. Hiding from SHIELD or not, he would never miss getting him something on their first Christmas together since he’d broke free of the trigger words and his conditioning in Wakanda. Honestly, Shuri was a lifesaver. He’d have to get her something, too, as a thank you.

Of course, Sam had, albeit reluctantly, watched his back on one-off missions and checked in on him regularly, so he should probably have something too; a lamp, so he’d lighten up from time to time. Bucky figured he’d appreciate the sentiment. And Natalia (or Natasha, as she had instructed him to call her now), Clint, Scott and Wanda were all pretty nice to him, and occasionally hung out with him just for the sake of it, the latter three a hell of a lot more than the former. They should all have a present from him. That’s what friends do, right? And he considered all of them (or at least, most of them) friends.

‘Great,’ he thought to himself as he reached the front of the store, ‘seven days to buy seven presents for seven very different people.’ But as it turned out, a bookstore could really hold all the answers.

After thirty minutes or so, he’d picked out a cookbook for Clint (“Circus school never taught the art of pasta,” he joked as he handed the other Rogue Avengers a plate of, well, burnt stuff); a book on the types of combat and weapons for different situations for Natasha, who no doubt would already know half of them; and a book on dog training for Scott’s giant pet ant, Ant-tonio. He edged towards the corner of the store where all of the creative books were kept and searched for the one he had planned on getting Steve. As he scanned the rows, seeing everything from guides in tonal studies to the joys of still life (Were there any? He hadn’t thought so), Bucky heard a gasp and the sound of a hardback hitting the ground. He whipped his head around, and that was when he saw her.

A woman who seemed to be in her late 20s, early 30s stared at him with almost a recognition in her eyes. She was only about 5’5, and had wavy, shoulder length brown hair and deep blue eyes. Her features were sharp, but her mannerisms were gentle.

“It’s you,” she breathed, walking closer and bringing her hand up to touch his face. It felt a little too personal for a stranger, but Bucky was frozen in place, unable to do anything. Stupid, screwed up responses. “Wow, you look every bit like Nana described you. Looked a little happier in your photos, but I guess with everything that’s happened to you I should expect nothing less.”

“Um… Can I help you?” Bucky finally managed, still rooted to the spot.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She pulled her hand away, looking embarrassed. “I just saw you and… God, Will really does look like you, doesn’t he? Jamie was right. Those same, steel-blue eyes.” He stared at the woman, wondering whether he should walk away quietly or call the cops. He felt a sort of pull towards her, but he supposed it was just a malfunction. Even with his fucked-up memory, he knew for a fact that he had never met her before. So why was she talking to him like a friend? And why did he feel somehow connected to her?

"What are you..." he began, but the woman cut him off.

"Seriously, those eyes are identical! See, this is why, when I'm picking names, I do it right! Clara can suck it, not wanting him to have James as his middle name. Wait, dammit, I'm rambling again," she said bashfully, her cheeks turning a little pink.

"I'm sorry, who are you? What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, right. Umm..." The woman looked awkwardly down at her shoes, rubbing the back of her head. She looked as though she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Bucky would join her, if he could. "Well, I'm Olivia Haywood, and... well, there's no normal way to say this- I'm your great niece."


	2. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has no idea what's going on, so he confides in people he trusts.

“I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake here,” Bucky laughs weakly, picking up the woman’s book and handing it to her – Olivia, she said her name was? “I don’t have any relatives. None from this century, anyway.”

“Look, I know it’s gotta be a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. Honest to God,” she insists. Poor girl, he thought. But then he considers it. What other explanation is there for the weird instant connection? Tons, probably. Looks like someone he knew, bought something from her once. Or maybe it was just his mind playing up again. But even still, she did kinda look like him, even just a little. Maybe if he tested her…

“Umm... okay, what is my sister’s full name? If you’re her family, you gotta know that.”

“Rebecca Jane Barnes. Nana always hated the ‘Jane’, ‘cause it sounded so boring. ‘I ain’t a plain Jane, that’s for certain’ she’d tell me. She was not the kind of woman you'd want to cross, but she was always kind.”

“Right…” Bucky falters a little. Too much information usually meant lying, but Olivia seemed the type to go on about anything. Surely Becca’s name could easily be searched, though? It had to be something more personal. “What was the photo inside my mother’s locket?” Yes, that was a better question, even if it might hurt him. He knew that, after losing him in the war, his mother would never change the photo in the locket. And Becca wouldn't dare. This would be an easy tell if Olivia were lying. The question prays on his mind, revoking old memories that stabbed at him. He missed them more than anything.

“Um… a photo of you, Nana and her sitting on some kind of wall, eating ice cream which, by the way, looks nothing like the ice cream we have today, so bland and monotone, although I guess the picture is in black and white. She was looking up at you, smiling like she'd never seen anyone better. She always went on about you, how much she missed you, how devastated she was when you-”

“Alright, okay, I get it!” he interrupted. Honestly, does she have to say so much? It's painful enough for him to remember. “I get it,” he says, softer this time. He might have felt like he wanted to cry, but that shouldn’t be a reason for him to yell at her. “It’s just… like you said, it’s a lot to take in.”

“That’s totally understandable. And I’m sorry for kind of just ambushing this on you the first second I saw you. I was just so happy that I could finally meet my war hero of a great-uncle that I’d heard about all my life, that I kinda just lost my filter. So yeah,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, nothing to worry about,” he tells her, voice low, when in reality it’s all he can think about. Here he was, running around trying to find bits and pieces of his old life and giving up hope of finding any and then he finds out he has a whole family here? The memory fragments in his shattered mind were just being pieced together again, and all of a sudden they crack once more.

“Well, look, I’ve gotta get going now, y’know, what with teenagers back home probably trashing the place, but can I give you my number? It’s totally cool if you never call it, but I’d kinda like for you to meet Jamie’s kids. They’ve always looked up to you, Autumn especially. So, what do you say?”

And for the first time in his life, Bucky made a decision that he didn’t think he’d regret, though he wasn't sure if it was clarity or blind hope.

“Sure.”

*

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said as he tossed the shield to Bucky, “this random woman comes over, tells you that you’re related, and you ACTUALLY believed her?”

“I know, it makes no sense, but I just felt some kind of connection to her, y’know?” Bucky replied quietly, throwing it back. They were training in the Rogue’s gym, but you can only spar for so long. Lucky Steve wasn’t there, or he’d have a fit about them playing frisbee with his shield. Of course, he can’t stay mad at Bucky (perks of a relationship, he guessed) so really it was only Sam who would get into trouble.

“Man, you really are nuts! What if she’s just this psycho girl who wants to lure you out of hiding?”

“Okay, first of all, we’re not exactly in hiding, just staying away from Stark and his team, and second of all she isn’t crazy. Besides, if she was gonna do anything to me, she probably would have asked for my number instead of offering her own,” he bit back. It was bad enough working out his own opinion without Sam's thrown in there too.

“What are you guys talking about? Wait, is that my shield?” Steve walks into the room, glancing from the shield to Sam to Bucky.

“Nothing, don’t worry…” Bucky starts, but Sam is already explaining the situation. Typical, he thought, something that just about involves him, and he’s not even the one who decides whether it’s shared or not.

“Becca’s granddaughter? Did you test her, look into whether she was telling the truth or not? Ask any questions, maybe?” Steve looks worried, and Bucky felt a twist of guilt in his stomach. Of course Steve would be concerned about this, he’s probably had to deal with long-lost-family hoaxes a lot.

"Steve, don't worry about it, I'm fine, see?" Bucky tells him with a forced smile, voice betraying him. Dear God, did he want to avoid talking about the conversation. Any more talk of his old life and Bucky was sure he'd break.

"You're not 'fine'! You're very much not 'fine'! What the hell did she say to you?" Bucky could hear the anger in Steve's voice rising, a pot of boiling water simmering over the top, and he wasn't sure whether it was at him, Olivia or the situation. The volume was getting to him; memories of enemy screams from long ago and handlers' frustration when their puppet didn't move threatened to resurface like they usually did, but he forced them back down.

"Just that, well, if I ever wanted to... I could talk to her more? And she told me some stuff that Becca had said to her and it really sounds like the kind of thing she would say!" Apparently, that was the wrong thing to tell him. Steve looked livid.

"Come on, Buck! How gullible do you have to be to believe this crap? She's clearly trying to get in your head!" Steve yells disbelievingly. Bucky attempts to shoot Sam a death glare, but the venom doesn't show, and he sort of just looks like a puppy left out in the rain. He knew something like this would make Steve mad, which was exactly why he didn't want to tell him. "What did you even ask her? "When was my father's birthday?" Steve spat sarcastically.

“I… I asked about my ma’s locket,” he replied softly, eyes welling up and looking Steve straight in the eyes. His willpower broke, and the violent memories flashed like a messed up slideshow in his head. The tears he had been trying to hold back since his mother was brought up with Olivia came spilling down his face. God, he missed her. What he wouldn’t give for her to lecture him again, for an opportunity to hold her and Becca once more, and never let go.

“Oh, God, Buck,” Steve's anger immediately melted away, looking as upset as he had that day on the bridge when he realized what had happened to him. He rushed over and put his arms around Bucky, guiding them down to the nearest bench. At this point, Sam had already left the room, mumbling something about giving them some privacy for their ‘emotional couple’s bullshit’, but the phrase lacked everything but sympathy. Bucky grasped onto Steve’s shoulders and cried silently for all he had lost through Hydra, as Steve had one hand rubbing circles on his back and the other holding his head close, muttering "God, Bucky, I'm sorry," over and over. Bucky didn't blame him; how could he, when all he was doing was trying to help? After all, it was his head that was broken. Once he had calmed down a little more, Steve spoke again.

"I should have never yelled, Buck. I was just stressed from something Nat told me about the Avengers... you know what, doesn't matter. I don't have an excuse. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, Stevie. I'm a grown man, I can take it," Bucky said weakly, the tears slowing but not stopping. This was long overdue: the crying, the feeling sorry for himself. It was bound to happen eventually. "To be honest, I kinda needed a good cry."

“It's okay to feel bad, but you've got to tell me, okay? And then I can fix it,"

"I'll try. I'm not so good with this emotion stuff, huh?"

"Neither of us are," Steve chuckled gently. "So, not to rush things, but do you think you're gonna call her? ”

“I don’t know, I mean… I don’t wanna get my hopes too high. But if this is real, I have to know. At least then I’ll never wonder what might have been,” he whispered, head still resting against Steve’s shoulder, their fingers entwined. 

“God knows we’ve both already had enough of that for a lifetime,” Steve looks down at him and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Do you want me to be here when you do it?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I could do it without you,” And they stay sitting there, the brunet with tear-stained cheeks resting his head against the broad-shouldered blond, holding each other as though they were made like that. As though the other meant home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH that ending was so cheesy! Side note: Bucky will require a lot of hugs in this fic. Also, thank you so much for 5 kudos on the first day! This is my first fic I have ever written, so it really means a lot. Virtual hugs to you all <3


	3. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky calls Olivia, and we find out a little more about her life.

Bucky called her after a week deliberating whether he should or not.

“Hello?” Olivia answered the phone.

“Olivia. You said to call you.” Bucky replied. No point beating around the bush for it, just get straight to the point.

“Oh! Bucky, hi! Or do you prefer James from strangers? Mr Barnes, maybe? Sorry, I’m useless at phone calls! It’s Liv by the way,” she laughed, though Bucky thought it sounded more strained and awkward than comedic.

“Right… no, Bucky is fine. I was wondering if…” he paused, looking over at Steve, who was sitting next to him and holding his hand. He had no idea what he wanted from the phone call. “Meet in public,” Steve mouthed, taking note of how clueless Bucky was. “If you wanted to meet… for coffee maybe?” At least coffee would be less awkward than a random bookstore.

“Yeah, of course! Saturday at 11?” He checked the day. It was Thursday. The line sounded rehearsed - had she been planning this since she saw him?

“Sure. Bye, I guess,” Bucky ended the call, feeling a mixture of nerves and relief. It didn’t seem like a hoax at all. And that was where it hit him.

“Holy shit, am I gonna have coffee with my great-niece?” he breathed, putting one hand on his head and leaning back into the couch, letting it slowly drop.

Steve squeezed his hand (that he was still holding) and looked at him with bewilderment. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

*

Olivia’s POV.

Well shit, Liv thought, as she stacked pots and pans in the cupboard. As excited as she was to finally meet Bucky properly, the phone call was a hot mess. God, why did she have to suggest it all so soon? It’s a huge bombshell to tell someone who thought all of their relatives were dead that they actually have a family still alive. She really needed to work on her conversational skills.

“Liv, Will keeps taking my hairbrush and using it on Alpine,” Autumn said quietly, walking into the kitchen. She never really spoke up these days, a side effect her mother forced on her. The girl was only 11, and yet had all the mannerisms and the somberness of a widow.

“Will! Don’t brush the cat with your sister’s brush! That’s just gross,” Liv yelled across the hall to her nephew. Honestly, at 14 he should be a lot more mature than that, and he still decides to tease and torment his little sister.

Will ran down to the kitchen, the apartment all but shaking. “Then tell her to let me play with Al from time to time! She just hogs the cat as though it were hers!”

“She is mine. Remember, Daddy got her for me before…” Autumn trailed off, turning a few shades paler. 

Will huffed at her discomfort. “All that stuff that happened was bullshit! Why do you still care about it? Is sweet little Autumn not getting enough attention?”

Autumn moved to walk out, but Will blocked her way, grinning menacingly. 

"Poor baby Autumn, all sad with no fwends," he said, mocking her, "who's gonna save you now from the big, bad monsters? Oh wait, no one's there. No one likes whiny little bitches who don't say more than two sentences at a time!"

“Will! Language! And don’t you dare talk to Autumn like that, you know what she’s been through!” Liv cut in, lightly cuffing him round the head. Why he was so mean to his sister was beyond her knowledge.

“I've been through shit too. So have you. Why does she get special treatment? Just because Mom forc-“ With that, Autumn gave Will a light shove and walked swiftly out of the room, hand covering her watering eyes.

“What the hell did you have to say that for? This could set her progress back by a lot!” Liv glared at him.

“What progress?” Will sneered, “Liv, she isn’t gonna get anywhere with you treading on eggshells around her. You can't just 'wait around' for her to be better. I mean, it’s been almost a year since it happened and nothing’s changed with her! It's ridiculous! And that stupid 'lost soul' act is even more pathetic that her moping around the whole time.”

“You can't be cruel to her and expect her to immediately 'get better'. It takes time, Will! And anyway, you know as well as I do that bringing up your mother to her would hurt her the most. We both know that wouldn't help at all. So what’s this really about?"

“Well, maybe I don’t like feeling like I'm not valued as much as my sister! You know, since everything went down with Mom and Dad, not once has anyone asked ME how I'm doing! She's not the only one who's damaged by this, who's lost her parents! But 'Oh, Autumn's so broken, so sweet, so sad, she's been through so much.' Well, maybe I have too, but nobody's cared enough to ACTUALLY FUCKING ASK!” he yelled, and with that he turned on his heel and ran to his bedroom, slamming the door which shook the apartment again. Liv sighed, and with only a second glance to the hall where their bedrooms were, continued cleaning the kitchen.

Later on, she went to check up on both of the kids. Autumn looked sound asleep, though it was only 7pm, and Will just mumbled a 'not hungry', before going back to his video game. Liv sighed, and walked back to the kitchen to boil some water. “Dinner for one, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, okay, 3 chapters in 3 days, I know! But I've had a cold and nothing to do, so writing it is! It won't be daily chapters for long, though, so don't get your hopes up!


	4. Coffee and More Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Liv meet properly this time, and some things are uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, so sit tight!

Bucky’s POV

**_The room was cold, mechanic. Just like the Soldier. He sat in the middle of the cell, still, unable to move. He wasn’t restrained, but the Soldier knew better than to move without commands. An agent walked into the cell, a handgun in his belt, his face etched with anger. The agent looked at the Soldier, and the anger faded to satisfaction, a smirk appearing on his lips. The Soldier avoided eye contact. He didn’t have the right to look his handlers in the eyes. He was not human, and should not be treated as such._ **

**_“наконец-то сдался, солдат?” the agent asked in a mocking tone. The Soldier didn’t give up, though. Bucky Barnes gave up, and he took over. The agent shouted for his team, all while the Soldier stayed staring at the floor._ **   
**_“Теперь ты станешь нашим оружием, солдат. не пытайтесь бороться с этим.”_ **   
**_Then the Soldier was pulled up and dragged along a corridor. He didn’t fight it. He couldn’t. He was taken to another room, one with many secure doors; the floors were stained reddish-brown in the hall, and the room itself wasn’t any better. The Soldier was thrown into a chair, his arms held down until the machine took hold of them and locked them in._ **

**_A new man walked over to him. This one was short, with round glasses and very little hair. His face wore a permanent, nasty smile. “Good morning, Sergeant Barnes,” the man said in accented English. “Finally, we have perfected the technology to make you forget. From this day on, Sergeant James Barnes will be no more, and the Winter Soldier will take his place! Shall we get started?”_ **

**_The Soldier sat without movement as a mouthguard was shoved between his jaws. The chair started tilting back, and as the metal plates came around his head, he remembered for a split second what life was like before Hydra, before the war; when it was just him and a short blond best friend living off bachelor rations in Brooklyn, not caring about anything so long as they had each other. Then the pain shot into his head, and as each electric shock pulsed through his brain, he felt everything he had ever known being pulled from him, as though someone was reaching into his soul and clawing at it._ **

**_The Soldier screamed at the top of his lungs, the pain engulfing him, making his vision black and spotted, and the screaming – his screaming – kept going. “Bucky,” he heard as the memories of the best friend were taken. That was what he’d called Barnes, if he remembered. It didn’t matter if he did, though. He wouldn’t soon. “Buck?” he heard again, louder. He couldn’t see his identity any longer. It was gone, and the screaming still couldn’t stop. “Bucky!”_ **

*

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, pulling him out of his nightmare of a flashback. He sat up as fast as he could, the knife from under his pillow in his left hand. It took a few moments for Bucky to realise where he was. They were in his and Steve’s floor of the Rogue’s compound, a building in New York designed by T’Challa to look unassuming on the outside, but high-tech on the inside. He sighed, and placed the knife on his bedside cabinet, falling back onto his pillow. It was only then he realised how fast his breath still was, and why his eyes felt damp and itchy.

“Buck, I know you said you wanna deal with this yourself, but I really think you should see someone about all this! What about your therapist from Wakanda?” Steve asked quietly, taking his hand. He knew that, immediately after a flashback, Bucky was hypersensitive to sound, and anything too loud could hurt his head.

“I can’t right now, Steve. What with Stark’s team searching for any sign of us, I don’t want to leave anyone with my personal information. You know as well as I do how that can be used against me,” Bucky replied, staring at the ceiling. His pulse was starting to lower, though he thought that was more to do with Steve rubbing circles on his palm than getting over the aftershocks of the nightmare.

“Yeah, I guess. But…Buck,” Steve relented, still sounding pretty concerned, “You haven’t had one this bad in months. Do you think it’s to do with the meeting today?” Oh yeah. It was Saturday, the day he was meant to meet Liv properly and talk about his long-lost family. God, that sounded weird to him.

“I don’t know, maybe? But before you say anything, yes, I want to go through with it. She’s family.”

“Why? If it’s causing you nightmares as bad as this, why even go?

“Stevie, the nightmare wasn’t about meeting her! Okay, sure, maybe running into Liv worried me a little, and made me think about my time as the Soldier again. But I still want to go.” Bucky’s voice was firm, and he hoped Steve took that as a sign that he wasn’t budging on this.

“Okay, how about we agree something. You meet with her today, talk about whatever you want. But I’m gonna be a few tables away.”

“Come on, Steve! I don’t need a babysitter! I can have conversations on my own.”

“I don’t doubt that, Buck. But I want to make sure you’re okay, even if it’s just for my own peace of mind. Please?”

“Okay, fine. You just can’t get enough of me, huh?” Bucky chuckled. Although he’d never admit it, he was glad Steve would be close by.

*

They walked into the coffee shop that Liv had agreed to meet them in, Mr Bean’s. Apparently there was some sort of pop culture joke in the title, but neither Bucky nor Steve understood it. Bucky chose a booth at a window in the corner, and Steve went to a table near the back. He said it was because Clint always talked to him about “watching from the shadows” when spying, so he figured it was appropriate. After a few minutes of waiting, the familiar blue-eyed lady entered, grinning when she saw him.

“Bucky! It’s great to finally be meeting you properly,” she said, walking over and holding out her hand for him to shake. Bucky, feeling a sudden burst of his old, confident self, brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Liv smiled, and sat down opposite him. They both ordered drinks (cappuccino for Bucky, skinny latte for Liv) and waited quietly. Finally, after a few moments of small talk, Liv started talking for real.

“So, how come you picked this place?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, confused.

“Well, the way you greeted the waitress and how she started writing down your order before you said it means you probably come here a lot. So, why here?”

“Well, I mean, there’s really great pastries here. Steve and I come here for breakfast every Wednesday.”

“Oh, that explains it!” Liv laughed, “I was thinking more along the lines of, oh, I don’t know… post-battle coffee.”

“Nah, the other Rogues don’t like this place-“ Bucky started before he has time to realize what he’s saying, then he clamps his hand over his mouth. She doesn’t know. And if she found out they were running from SHIELD…”

“Don’t worry, I already knew,” she replied, as though she had read his mind, “I figured when Stark lost half his team, and one of them was literally Captain America, that they wouldn’t have stopped fighting even if they were in hiding. Lucky for you, if you keep the arm covered, people don’t really recognize you. So, moving on… you and Steve huh? Nana would be so proud.”

“Yeah, Becca knew how I felt about him. Of course, we didn’t do anything back then, but she knew and told me she didn’t love me any less for it. She was always accepting of that.”

“Well, that’s good.” The two of them sat in comfortable silence until their drinks came, and Bucky decided to ask a few questions of his own.

“So, when we first met in the store, you kept mentioning a guy called Jamie. Said about him having kids and stuff. So, who is he?”

“Um, well… Jamie’s my brother. We kinda have a family tradition of giving boys the name James, whether it’s as a first name or a middle name. Nana started it, naming her son Steven James Barnes. She wanted someone to represent you both.”

“Wait, how many family members do I have?”

“About 5 or 6 living, but I can tell you about the others. Okay, so Nana married a guy called Adrian Haywood. Rich, yeah, but a good man. They had 3 kids: Steven, Jenna and Louise. Steven's middle name was actually James, 'cause she wanted to honor both you and Captain Rogers. Aunt Jenna married, had no kids; Aunt Louise married and had a son, my cousin David. Dad had two kids, James and me (I got Nana’s middle name, Jamie had your first name and Grandpa’s as a middle). Jamie married, I haven’t. But then we get to his family.

“He married a wealthy woman, Clara Williams. The nastiest, cruelest bitch you could ever meet. She hated our family, and rejected our traditions. So, rather than continue the James tradition, she called their firstborn Elliot George, after her father. Trying to ruin the Haywood tradition. When they had their second kid two years later, another boy, they couldn’t care less what he was called. Well, Jamie could, but by then she already had him obeying her every command. I don’t know how she did it, but I don’t think I want to. So anyway, they didn’t really care about this kid. Just wanted to use him. So I got to name him. And, because you deserved to be honored, and he looked so much like you, I called the kid William James. And three years after that, when they had a girl, Clara wanted to name her. But Jamie let me, and so I called her Autumn Rebecca. Nana was a wonderful woman, and I figured it made sense that the older brother and the younger sister had your names.”

“Oh my God. Well, I mean- thank you,” Bucky was in shock. All of this he didn’t know about? But, one minor thing didn’t add up. “Hold on. You said you had teenagers back home last week, but you haven’t mentioned kids of your own. Why?”

“Well, the teenagers? They aren’t mine. They’re Jamie’s younger two, Will and Autumn. Their mother was… not the greatest person to say the least.” She slowly looked down at her latte, face dropping. They were going into dangerous territory.

“Was? Wait, she’s dead? And what about the other boy?”

“No, no, she isn’t dead, though god I wish she was. They ran away from her, ran to me. Kind of like you, they’re hiding from her, their father and brother.”

“Why?”

“So you know how I said she’s a horrible person, and corrupted my brother too? Well, she trained up their kids to be like them. Autumn and Will wouldn’t, couldn't, but Elliot went along with it, and now…” Liv looked stricken, sad, angry, “he’s one of them.”

“One of who?” Bucky questioned. Liv refused to look him in the eye, and stayed quiet. Bucky knew there was something big she wasn’t telling him. “Liv?”

“Oh, God, Bucky, I don’t know how I’m gonna tell you this… but Clara, Jamie, Elliot? They…” she cut herself off, choking back a sob. Tears really were falling down her face now, eye contact still not being an option to her.

Bucky reached over and placed his hand on hers, finally catching her eyes. “Liv? Whatever it is, I won’t judge you. And it’s them who are awful, not you. You can tell me,” he told her softly. Whatever was wrong, he hoped she would tell him. It clearly involved him anyway.

“Bucky… Clara, her family, Jamie, Elliot… they’re all Hydra. I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the agent says (Sorry if it's wrong, I used google translate):
> 
> наконец-то сдался, солдат? - finally surrendered, soldier?  
> Теперь ты станешь нашим оружием, солдат. не пытайтесь бороться с этим. - now you will be our weapon, soldier. don't try to fight it.
> 
> Also, yes it was absolutely necessary to do that. Sorry not sorry! But I will be doing weekly updates now, confirmed! See you next week!


	5. Stuff has Happened...?

_“Bucky… Clara, her family, Jamie, Elliot… they’re all Hydra. I’m so sorry.”_  
They’re all Hydra.  
Hydra.

The words echoed in his head, the name of the one organisation he hoped to be rid of sticking out like a sore thumb. Bucky was frozen in place, and he could feel his pulse starting to raise. His family – his biological family – worked for the place that held him captive for decades, that had him do things that weighed him down at the best of times. It hurt, that was for certain. Liv was still crying, and she put her head in her hands as she struggled for normal breath.

“Hey, hey, look at me, Liv,” Bucky said, trying his hardest to sound calm and reassuring though his mind was racing. “They’re not you, okay? I mean, I know I just met you, but if you were willing to take in their runaway kids and look after them, and if said kids ran away from them in the first place, then you can’t all be bad, right?”

“Oh who cares about me?” she snapped, looking back at him with hurting eyes. “What about you? Your literal family members are with the people who stripped you of a normal life, who made you do things, awful things-“ Another round of sobs shook her, and Bucky was thankful that they picked a booth in the corner, or else the whole coffee shop would be looking at them. He hated this, and kind of wished he had listened to Steve earlier. He felt the knife in his gut twist deeper and deeper, and the dull ache of guilt throb.

“I mean… I’m not thrilled about it. No, screw that, I’m fucking pissed about it. But that’s my issue, and you shouldn’t have to worry about it. None of it’s your fault, you know?”

“You’re one to talk, Buck” Steve, the sly bastard, had managed to find his way over to their table whilst Bucky was trying to stop Liv from crying. “I think it would be best if we moved this conversation elsewhere. Our place?” he told them softly. Both Bucky and Liv nodded solemnly and slid out of the booth, leaving behind a fifty to pay. Bucky didn’t care about it being too much; they were friends with a king, after all.

Once back at the compound, Steve made tea for them all and Liv finally had a chance to calm down, the big choking sobs from the coffee shop reduced to a few sniffles every now and then. She had called a cab and would be leaving soon, the day clearly being too much for her. Bucky was glad: then he’d only have to wait for Steve to sleep before he could have some revelations of his own.

“Thanks for meeting me today,” Liv told him, sipping at her sugary tea. “I’m so sorry we got onto such a tough topic on the first official meeting.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Probably best I did find out off the bat. Imagine I wasn’t too accepting of it, and found out later.”

“I would like to do this again real soon, though. Maybe round mine, though? I don’t think I could handle another coffee shop breakdown!” she replied with a weak smile.

“I mean, I have a lot of free time nowadays. Could even do tomorrow, if you wanted!”

He shouldn’t have said that. Only a few minutes later, Liv left with an arrangement of three in the afternoon the next day. Great. Bucky hoped he could shut himself in the guest room and think about everything once she left, but of course Steve, being the perceptive dick he was, noticed something was wrong.

“Alright, now she’s gone, you wanna tell me the truth?”

“What truth? Steve, I’m okay. Well, not okay, obviously, but fine. Neutral.”

“Bucky, can you just-“

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, glaring at him. “I said it’s fine.”

“Buck, the people you're related to were Hydra. Becca’s grandkids. You’re obviously not fine. Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Maybe I don’t feel like it.”

“Why? You promised we were gonna be honest with each other about our feelings! Why is it only me who has to do that?” God, did Steve not know when he shouldn’t push. Bucky felt his anger beginning to surface, but he shoved it down like he tried to do with everything else.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he snapped sharply. Steve looked taken aback, if a little hurt. Bucky sighed and put his head in his hand. “Sorry, Steve, just… can we drop it? Please?”

Steve smiled, soft and caring. “Yeah, sure, Buck.” They spent the rest of that afternoon watching Disney movies (Bucky’s choice, though Steve didn’t mind since they reminded him of when they went to watch Snow White at the movie theater in ’37) and cuddling on the couch. They stayed sat like that for hours, and as the TV screen flickered with images of a little blue alien running riot with a Hawaiian girl, Bucky felt all the stress of that day melt away. Even though it would all come back tomorrow, he didn’t mind.

Later on, when they were both lying in bed, Steve whispered to him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Bucky sighed and turned around to face him. “I don’t know. God, I mean – who’d have thought that all this would happen to us? Going 70 years into the future in itself was crazy. Me breaking my conditioning, the Avengers splitting, becoming fugitives, the fight with Stark” - He felt Steve flinch at that – “It… it all just seems so surreal, you know? Like it’s all just some crazy dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and be back in that Hydra facility, sitting in the chair, having my brain shredded again.”

“Yeah, well, they aren’t getting you back. Not ever,” Steve said, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I know you’re avoiding it, and I’m not gonna force you to talk to me. But can you at least try with someone? Talking, I mean. Somebody less involved than I am, maybe. Please, Bucky?”

“Fine. How can I say no to you? Face like that could make angels weep.” He gave Steve a cocky smirk.

“You are such a jerk.”

“Punk.”

*

“They’re WHAT?” Sam exclaimed loudly. Of course one of the people Bucky decided to tell had to be Sam Fucking Wilson, the least discrete person he had ever met. If anything, Sam should have been the one person to not know (apart from Clint, maybe. Lack of subtlety must be a bird thing). Natasha elbowed him, hard. Oh yeah, he also told the most secretive one, too.

“Hydra. Liv told me yesterday.”

“Okay, first, ow. You got some elbows on you, Tasha!” he replied, rubbing his side, “and second, that’s awful, man! I told you something was off about this!”

“Liv isn’t, that’s the thing. Her brother, his wife and one of their kids are, though.”

“Still crazy.”

“Wait, one of his kids?” Natasha interjects, brows furrowed. “As in, he has multiple?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, his other kids aren’t.”

“No, they live with her. Liv, I mean.”

“Are you sure they aren’t lying?”

“Nat! Seriously, they’re kids. And yes, I am sure. They ran away from their parents.”

“Okay, but are you sure-“

“Nat, stop. I know you’re worried, and I know you don’t think I should do this,” Bucky says, hearing the unsaid words that Natasha was putting across with her questions, “but I really want to meet them. They’re family, after all.”

“No, they’re relatives. Family means you have a bond, relatives means you share genetics. You owe them nothing.”

“But I owe myself this. Please, Nat? Steve knew when he got out of the ice that Becca was already dead, but these people show the life she lived after me! I need to know that she lived a good one.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if you get your life taken from you again. Because it will, Barnes.” And with that, Natasha strutted out of the room. She was just concerned, Bucky knew that, but the fact that she didn’t even call him Bucky, just Barnes, hurt a little. It made his internal anger and guilt simmer a little, but he made sure he had full control over it.

“Don’t think about her, okay? She’ll get over it.” Sam said, putting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Maybe my mind's just clouding my judgement,” Bucky mumbled quietly. Not quiet enough, apparently.

“What did you just say?”

“Um, nothing, just… forget about it.”

“Uh-uh, no, I am not letting you get away with that. Right, this is now a counselling session. What’s going on?”

“You promise not to tell Steve?”

“Cross my heart,” Sam said, doing the motion like a kid.

“I’m freaking out. What do I do? I mean, they have my blood. Becca’s grand and great-grand kids! And they were with the people that hurt me, that kept me there. The logical solution would be to listen to Natasha and assume they're dangerous. But at the same time, I really wanna meet those other kids. They didn’t do anything wrong. Actually, they escaped! And I know both Steve and Natasha are worried, and neither of them want me to pursue it, but they’re my only connection to my relatives. I mean, I love Steve more than anything and him and the Rogues are my family, too, but there’s no blood. And I know you don’t need blood to be family, but…”

“But they’re the only things tying you to your heritage.” Sam finished for him.

“Yeah, exactly! So am I wrong for trying? Wanting to know them, to like them?”

“No, you’re not wrong at all. But I also see where Nat and Steve are coming from. What if you get hurt?”

“Then that’s on me. I’m gonna try, whether they want me to or not, though. So letting them know was more polite courtesy than asking for permission.”

“Now, there I am with you 100%. If you want to to this, go for it! Don’t let them stop you.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime, man.”

“No, seriously, I can see how you did these motivating talks for a living. A sap like you has to make themselves a life somehow!” Sam scowled and got up to leave, tripping over his chair in the process. Bucky cackled with laughter as he left the room. Yeah, Bucky was really grateful for Sam. But he was also a dick. A cocky, smartass of a dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally either start, end, or dedicate a whole chapter to emotional bullshit, so don't expect any less this time. Thanks for reading, and since it's now half term, I will hopefully post a couple of chapters this week to make up for the week I missed. See you eventually!


	6. Liv's Apartment

That afternoon, Bucky went to Liv’s place. The drive wasn’t too far, since they lived in Brooklyn, but it was long enough that it gave him time to panic. What was he thinking, arranging this so soon? With everything that went down yesterday, for some reason he decided that a next day continuation would be great. Steve was at home; Bucky thought it would be best if he went alone, since both of them going might scare the kids.

Oh, God, there were kids there, weren’t there? Will and Autumn, apparently. And, according to Liv, they both had some sort of PTSD from an event he was yet to find out about. He wanted nothing more than for them to like him, but he knew his presence probably wouldn’t be accepted. They’d be scared of him, dislike him, which would make Liv not want to see him again and he’d be without relatives again- No, he had to stop thinking like that. He needed to see the positives. After all, it can’t be too bad, right?

Bucky pulled into the parking lot near the apartment complex in Brooklyn. The exterior was a little shabby, but the area was nice and clean bar some graffiti on the side of the building by the dumpsters. He got out of the car, walked to the front and pressed the buzzer for Liv’s apartment. The intercom crackled.

“Hello?” her cheery voice rang out.

“Hi Liv, it’s Bucky. I’m out here, obviously.”

“Bucky, great! Let me just buzz you in. We’re apartment 7G”

The main door buzzed and he walked inside, beginning to climb the many steps to the 7th floor. There was an elevator he could have taken, but he didn’t want to risk having a panic attack. One of Hydra’s many downsides was that he was left with many mental scars and phobias, claustrophobia being one of them. It wasn’t fun, but he managed. Well. He tried to.

Finally, he made it to their front door. Bucky lifted up his fist to knock, but hesitated. Should he do this? He already uncovered some heavy stuff within the first week of knowing these people. What if he finds out something more awful? Or – worse still – what if they find out his full person, and decide they want nothing to do with him?

He tried to ignore those thoughts like always, and knocked on the door after deliberating for two minutes. A few moments later, he was greeted by Liv’s smiling face.

“Hey, Bucky! Come on in! You want some coffee?”

As he walked into the apartment, he took in his surroundings. The place was pretty large and open plan, with the hall, kitchen and living room all being rolled into one. Either side of the hall were four doors, two on each wall. The back wall was covered with windows, the walls were a sage green and the floors hardwood. But these weren’t the things that drew Bucky’s eyes. It was the furnishings.

Two large, grey leather couches sat 90 degrees from each other, facing the corner. They were decorated by sage and white throw pillows, and each had a cream blanket draped over the back. In the corner sat an oak TV stand, and atop it was a 40” TV. It was one of the newer models with really high graphics and could play DVDs on it, as well as being a smart type. A cream shaggy rug lay between the TV and the couches. It looked so modern and cosy compared to the slightly scruffy exterior of the building.

He sat down at the clean, glass table in the kitchen as Liv came over with a tray and two mugs of coffee. Here also looked very modern, with glossy white cabinets and deep gray counters.

“We never really drink much milk, so I completely forgot to buy any! Is black okay?” she asked, holding out his mug.

“Yeah, black’s fine,” Bucky replied, taking it from her with a smile of thanks.

“So… this is my place, I guess. What do you think?”

“It’s amazing! Nothing like the building exterior. How’d you get it?”

“Well, it’s sort of meant to look unassuming, so that _certain people_ won’t come looking.” Bucky knew exactly who those “certain people” were.

“You must make a ton of money to afford the stuff in here, though.” He said, hoping he didn’t sound too intrusive. But that was what he was doing, really. Intruding. Prying. He wanted to know more about her, not only to get to know her but also to fully satisfy Natasha and Steve and let them know that she isn’t bad.

“Oh, well, here’s the thing…” Liv blushed, scratching the back of her head, “it isn’t my money that got us here. Well, it is now, but it wasn’t originally. What I mean is, I didn’t earn it.”

“Oh, was it inheritance or something?”

He knew he was really prying now, but he needed to know. If it was inheritance, well. Considering Becca was her grandmother, inheritance could mean that she lived a better life after the war, wanting for nothing rather than having her eye out for things she can’t have.

“Yeah, inheritance. When Nana and Grandpa died, they split their money between my father and my aunts. They each got about… $500,000?”

“$500,000?”

“Yup. The Fletcher side were all aristocrats, so they were loaded. Anyway, by the time my dad died, Jamie had already joined Hydra with Clara, and he didn’t feel right giving him the money when he knew bad things would be done with it. So, since my mom was already gone, he gave all his money to me.”

“Wow. Your family is pretty complex with everything, huh?”

“ _Our_ family,” she corrected him, smiling.

They sat, just talking and getting to know each other more for a bit. Bucky found out that Liv loved Glee (and cried when it ended last year), has a pet cat called Alpine (who is technically the kids’ cat, but “I feed it and clean its litter tray, so I say that it’s mine too!”) and loves to bake. Everything felt a lot more at ease with her, now. Maybe getting off to a harsh start worked pretty well for them.

They had almost gotten to the bottom of their coffee mugs when footsteps sounded in the hall, and a boy ran into the room.

“Liv, have you seen my Converse? I can’t find them anywh…” he trailed off, seeing Bucky. The kid looked about fourteen, with short, red, wavy hair. He seemed tall for his age, around 5’9, and looked fit. His features, like his aunts, were sharp and his skin was peachy and freckled, especially under the eyes. God, his eyes. They were pale, steel blue. The exact same as Bucky’s.

*

"First the Accords, then Tony, now this! Why can't we ever catch a break?" Steve mumbled, reading all the information on the computer screen.

"He shouldn't have to deal with this. He doesn't even know about the stuff with the Avengers yet-" Natasha started, but Steve cut her off.

"Which is why this is the worst possible thing to happen right now. Sure, it's not her or those kids, but God..."

He looked like a sad kitten, sitting there. Natasha glanced over at him, his eyes still glued to the computer. “You have to tell him.”

Steve finally takes his eyes away from the screen, his mind fuzzing with its contents. He looks worryingly at her. “Nat, I can’t, you know I can’t.”

She glared at him. “Steve, if one of us found out this stuff about your relatives, wouldn’t you want to be told?”

“He’ll get hurt. I swore after Siberia that I would never let him get hurt again.”

“It will hurt more when he finds out on his own.”

“ _If_ he finds out.”

“ _When._ ”

*

“Oh my god,” the boy said, taking in the sight in front of him, “you’re Sergeant Barnes. As in, _the_ Sergeant Barnes, the one my family’s talked about for years.”

“And apparently related to you,” Bucky told him. He was speechless, but didn’t really look too shocked.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that’s why everyone did a toast to you at Christmas round Nana Becca’s. We still do it, y’know.”

“Well, it’s nice that they remembered me.”

“So, did my aunt invite you round, Sergeant?”

“That she did. And, please, it’s Bucky,” he said, holding a hand out for the boy to shake.

“Will,” he replied, grasping Bucky’s hand. The kid had clearly shook many hands before; the way he did it felt rehearsed.

“Will, honey, can you go and get your sister? I feel like if you’re getting to meet Bucky, she should be able to, too,” Liv asked him, a different expression taking her face. Was it – worry? Pity? Fear?

“Does she have to, Liv? Can’t I just have this moment without Autumn ruining it for once?” Will said snarkily, but obliging anyway.

“Sorry about him, Bucky. Honestly, he’s had it out for Autumn ever since they came here. Do you know, he was never like this before. When they were little, they were thick as thieves, best friends. But something happened, and, well, you don’t need to know the details. But then all of a sudden, he has this huge dislike of her. I don’t think it’s the age gap, since he’s only 3 years older.”

“Maybe it’s a sibling thing? He could just find his little sister annoying because she’s his little sister.”

“Maybe,” she replied as Will comes back in, this time with a young girl. Bucky has to do a double take. The girl was around 5’2, with curly auburn hair just past her shoulders. She was skinny and quite fair, with freckles scattering across her small nose. Her features were delicate, like a porcelain doll. She looked just like Becca had, in all but the eyes. While Becca had the same blue as Bucky, this child had glistening light green. Bucky could see why she was named Autumn; the red tones in her hair and the green of her eyes reminded him of fall leaves.

“Here she is. Autumn, meet James Buchanan Barnes, our technical great-great uncle. You probably know who he is. Bucky, this is my weird, stupid little sister Autumn.”

“I’m not weird or stupid,” Autumn said quietly with a slight glare to her brother. She turned to face Bucky and held out her hand. “Hello, sir.”

Bucky took her hand and, rather than shake it, he turned it over and kissed the back of it. Autumn giggled, a small smile decorating her face. “Hello, Miss Autumn. You can call me Bucky. How old are you?”

“Eleven. I’ll be twelve in March.”

“Eleven. Why, you’re practically a lady!” Bucky replied, grinning at her. She still looked a little on edge, but not nearly as much. From the way Liv was looking at her, it seemed as though she hadn’t been like this in a while.

They all struck up a conversation, talking more about interests and hobbies. Turned out, Will had played tennis since he was 8 years old, and Autumn loved ballet and started classes when she was 6. It felt so normal, so domestic, so free. From the way they were talking, to an outsider it would seem as though they had known Bucky their whole lives. He was glad they weren’t scared of him.

Soon, the afternoon grew to a close, and Bucky felt a lot closer to them all. A new arrangement was made, this one for the Wednesday before Christmas. Sure, it was in four days, but that wasn’t too soon for him at all. And, unlike the coffee shop day, he felt really at ease when he bid his goodbyes to the Haywoods. Liv definitely felt like a friend by now, and Will and Autumn he liked a lot, he decided as he walked down the never-ending staircase to the bottom. As he reached his car, feeling slightly more lethargic than usual, he wondered about how different things might be now. But he didn’t really care. Different, he thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot and started the drive home, wasn’t always bad. And sometimes, something great can come out of a few setbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a whole chapter without emotional bullshit! (sorry, I love that phrase!) Anyway, Bucky finally met Will and Autumn, and cute, fluffy, domestic stuff is happening. But will it stay that way for long? I wouldn't be a very good story writer if it did. Sorry! Also, please leave a comment on what parts of the story you like, and what parts I could improve on as it will help me a bunch. Thanks! ~ Rose xo


	7. Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, I couldn't think of a new chapter idea for months! But I am back, and hopefully doing lots better in the new year. 
> 
> Edit: Adding a TW for something resembling a depressive episode. Please proceed with caution, or skip to the astrics after the first paragraph.

Scratch what he said about feeling at ease. The euphoria of the day wore off the moment he set foot out of his car back at the compound. Once Bucky got home, and was told Steve was called out on an emergency mission, however, things really went to shit.

After continuously meeting with the Haywoods, Bucky felt so incredibly drained. He barely managed his daily tasks, didn’t feel like doing much and sat aimlessly flicking through channels on the TV in their room for hours on end. He couldn’t eat, could barely move and his sleep was always fitful and nightmare fuelled. Anything he normally enjoyed, be it baking, reading or playing around on Instagram, just added to the apathy he felt. Everything he did, everything around him, felt numb. This went on for a few days, and the other members of the compound grew increasingly worried for him.

They couldn’t get through to him, even with various attempts: Clint tried starting conversations and joking around; Sam made an effort to come by their floor every day and try to convince him to get up, to no avail; even Natasha told him about minor missions – Hydra missions, the ones he always wanted to be the one doing – but nothing changed. They all wanted to help, he knew that, and he wasn’t blind. He could see Sam frowning when he saw that he hadn’t moved, see the way Natasha’s usually calm and collected mask wavered when he denied her mission requests. But he didn’t know how they could help.

It wasn't like he didn't want to help. Hell, he wanted to do everything he could to get rid of this. But he was drowning, and he had no idea how to get back out.

When Steve arrived home from his mission on the morning of the fourth day to find Bucky still there, his face instantly grew sad. He rushed over to him, despite the bruises up and down his arms and legs, and sat down gently next to him.

“Bucky, what’s going on with you? Sam and Nat said you weren’t great after you went over there, but I thought that meant you were a little rough. Then I get back, and they explained the full of it. What's wrong?”

“Steve, I’m fi-“

“I swear to God, Buck, if you tell me you’re fine I’m gonna punch something.” Steve’s voice was firm, but gentle, and full of concern.

“Okay, I’m not fine. No, scratch that, I’m fucking awful. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Hell, I’ve barely moved off of this bed in days. This whole thing, it’s- it’s ripped something in me and I don’t know how to fix it again. I want to know them, Stevie, I do but I-“ Bucky cuts himself off, the lump in his throat growing large and painful. The tears that had slowly been crushing his lungs as he tried to contain them finally showed, trickling down his face.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said softly, and wrapped his arms around him. Bucky clung to him, crying into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, until Bucky sat bolt upright.

“Shit, I was meant to meet them today!”

“Don’t worry, Nat got Liv’s number and called her yesterday to say that you had an emergency and couldn’t make it today. They rescheduled for January 5th, so you can at least get through the new year.”

Sometimes, Bucky felt like he really didn’t deserve Steve. The man was like an angel in disguise, if an angel had absolutely no regard for their own safety and wore checked shirts like they were a lumberjack.

“Okay. I should, uh, I should probably go shower now, huh?”

“Definitely. I mean, no offence, Buck, but you look worse than me and I’ve just been punching fraudulent gang members in an abandoned warehouse.”

“You always gotta be a dick?” Bucky smiled, despite the shithole few days he’d just had.

“Only for you, my love” Steve grinned back cockily. "You want me to help you?"

"Yeah, I think I might need it." And Bucky already felt the weights on his chest grow a little lighter.

*

Once they were both showered and dressed, they went down to the communal floor, Steve holding Bucky a little more upright. Sam, Clint, Wanda, Natasha and Scott were sitting, watching 'Friends' on TV. Clint’s face lit up when he saw Bucky.

“Aw, yeah! Our famous Buckaroo’s out of bed! Missed you, buddy!” he ran over, fist bumping him.

“Thank God, otherwise we’d have missed out on peanut butter cookies for the fourth day in a row.” Sam said sarcastically, but still came over and gave Bucky a hug.

Bucky smiled weakly. “I’m still not feeling 100% right now, you guys. So peanut butter cookie baking may be put on hold for a while.”

“Oh, no cookies? But what’ll I feed the children?” Sam said sarcastically, gesturing to Wanda and Scott who both looked put out by this news.

“Isn’t Scott older than you?” Natasha chimed in, raising her eyebrow.

“Technically? Yes. But mentally? Hell no.”

“Hey! I’m mature! Father here, remember?” Scott exclaimed.

“You own a karaoke machine that you sing with BY YOURSELF, own a giant pet ant and still can’t work a washing machine.”

“Yeah, plus you don’t do your own taxes and we sort out all of your important stuff.”

“Okay, you guys suck.” Scott pouted, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch cushions.

“Aw, don’t be sad, Scottie, want me to go get you a juice box?” Wanda said in mock sympathy.

“Not you too, Wanda, come on! Wait… can I actually have one?”

*

Bucky did end up going back on his word about the cookies, after a lot of whining from Sam and Clint. “Feed the kids, my ass,” he thought as he mixed the peanut butter into the slowly forming dough, “they eat more of my cookies than the rest of us combined.” He had to lean on the counter a lot, but it was better than nothing.

The others were in the living room area, watching Clint and Scott battling it out on Mario Kart. He was quite glad for the private time, really. The stress from the last couple of weeks really got to him, and he was worried that if he launched back to normal too fast then it would happen again. When he was rolling the dough, though, he overheard Natasha and Steve getting up and moving to the next room. Curious, he abandoned his cookies for the moment to find out why.

Making his way to the room, he stopped a few metres away from the door and leaned against the wall. He would have gone closer, since from this distance he could only hear snippets, but Natasha, the annoyingly good spy, would know he was there. Bucky pressed his ear against the wall to hear a little better.

“Nat, I don’t…maybe they…working for…”

“…well if we…really, it could…”

It seemed pretty mundane, and completely pointless listening to. Bucky sighed and returned to his cookies. 40 minutes and a lot of patience later, he walked out with 4 plates balanced on his arms like a waiter into the living area to feed his demanding friends. Natasha and Steve returned soon after, and they all spent the rest of the evening laughing, talking and yelling at the TV screen, which was their favorite way to kill the day.

Later, Bucky sat up in bed and read a new book he’d found on Amazon, called “Harry Potter”. Well, technically it was a series, but he’d just ordered the first one to see how it was and oh my god. It was the best thing he’d read in a while. When Steve came up to bed, he was feeling sad for Ron when Draco was being mean about his family because that’s NOT VERY NICE AT ALL, the bastard.

“Good day today, Buck?” Steve asked, getting into what Bucky called his “old man pyjamas” (blue plaid button up. Very old-man-ish).

“Better than the ones before,” he smiled, but he knew that the smile was forced, and he was carefully avoiding saying 'good'. So did Steve, apparently. 

“You know you’re gonna have to tell me why those days actually happened, right?”

“Can’t we just go to bed? I’m tired, Stevie,” Bucky tried to look as much like an invalid as he could, pulling the covers up over his head as he put the book down and slid down the pillows.

“Saying my name like that won’t win you any brownie points right now,” he chuckled, “or buy you more time. So spill.” Damn, he wasn’t budging.

“Okay fine. I, um… Dammit, how do I say this? Uh… I- I freaked out. I freaked out because a month ago I just had you, and now I have this family who I’m related to, who know exactly who I am and have been told stories of how I’m this ‘great war hero’. Except I’m not. I’m not a great war hero, I’m an ex-assassin who killed hundreds of innocent people and I feel like I won’t live up to who they want me to be. I’m a cold-blooded murderer and I-“

“Okay, let me just stop you there. You’re not a cold-blooded- Hey!” Steve held his finger up when Bucky went to interrupt, “let me finish. You are not, nor have you ever been a cold-blooded murderer, okay. You know why? Because your time as the Asset? That wasn’t you. That was a weapon they forced into your body, and you got it back. You got rid of the Asset; you stopped anyone being hurt by him ever again. Because you are the kindest, most caring, most unselfish person I have ever met. You did that, Buck. And you do live up being the great war hero, because you already are. You always have been.”

Tears formed in his eyes, but not ones like earlier. No, these were tears of happiness. Of complete love and admiration for this man, this perfect man who has always been there no matter what. Who believed in him even when the world told him not to. The only man he has ever had eyes for. Steve leaned down, tilted Bucky’s head up to face him and kissed him softly, holding him close. Even if things didn’t work out with his relatives, Bucky would always have the Rogues. And he would always, always, have Steve. To the end of the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, that was so fluffy I'm gonna die! So, the dynamic in the compound (and the Mario Kart) is inspired by one of my favourite post-Civil War fics, Einherjar by thecommodore_squid. It's an orphan account, but the fic is amazing and I would definitely recommend giving it a read. Also, side note: Bucky hasn't suddenly 'recovered' from his episode, and there will be ups and downs about it in the next chapter.


	8. Another Update (please read!!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, another update! I went back and kind of rewrote a lot of it... sorry! I really recommend re-reading the fic, since I felt like some points (Bucky's trauma and the way it was portrayed) weren't as well thought out as they could have been, and so I changed them. I also changed their surname from Fletcher to Haywood because I thought it sounded cooler.

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